


The Right Reasons

by DodgerBear



Category: God’s Own Country
Genre: Brexit, M/M, proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-21
Updated: 2019-11-21
Packaged: 2021-02-26 17:20:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21512047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DodgerBear/pseuds/DodgerBear
Summary: Uncertainty looms and Johnny panics.
Relationships: Gheorghe Ionescu/Johnny Saxby
Comments: 19
Kudos: 229





	The Right Reasons

The sky was still inky black when Johnny made his way out into the barn. His mind had been filled with thoughts of his poorly calf all night and he’d lost sleep worrying about him. When he awoke for the tenth time and saw it was just gone four in the morning, he slipped out of his warm bed and headed out to check on the animal. Getting out of the warm bed was made all the more difficult when Gheorghe was curled up alongside him and radiating heat like a furnace. They had upgraded to a double bed when it was set in stone that Gheorghe would be staying with Johnny but the couple still slept huddled together in the centre of the mattress. It was a habit that was hard to break. It was a habit Johnny didn’t _want_ to break. 

The calf was sleeping when Johnny reached the barn. He let out a sigh of relief. His love of animals had been often overshadowed by his resentment that he had no choice but to work with them. The decision was made when he was still in high school, trying to get a couple of qualifications to his name that would ultimately get him nowhere. It still stung sometimes that this life was planned out for him simply by virtue of being born on the farm. It stung less these days. A lot less. He knew it was because of Gheorghe. It was a lot easier to settle for your lot in life when the person you were sharing it just happened to be the reason you got out of bed every morning. Not a day went by when Johnny didn’t thank his lucky stars that it was Gheorghe that answered the ad for farm help almost three years earlier. Or that Gheorghe had forgiven him for the mistakes he’d made early on, before he’d been able to think through what he wanted to do with his life. But he had, and now Johnny was free. His mind was clear and it allowed past loves to return in their full glory. Like the joy of seeing springtime burst into colourful bloom. The sound of birds chirping in the trees when the sun rose. And, the main one, animals. Johnny’s love of animals was back and he nurtured each one like it deserved. Losing sleep over a calf with a cough is something that wouldn’t have happened before Gheorghe. But that’s how his life was now. Split into two very clear, marked periods. Before Gheorghe and After Gheorghe. AG was much better than BG. Much, much better. 

“What are you doing out here?” Gheorghe spoke softly when he gently nudged Johnny awake. 

“What? Where am I?” Johnny sat bolt upright. 

He had form for blacking out in random places. He struggled to clear the fog in his mind and realised he was slumped on a hay bale in the barn, next to the calf pen. 

“Oh...I couldn’t sleep...thinkin about the runt. Came out to check on him.” Johnny slurred tiredly. 

Gheorghe smiled widely and bent to peck his lips to Johnny’s. “And how is he?”

“Seems alright. Just gotta keep an eye on him I spose.” 

“Okay. I make breakfast. Deirdre is taking Martin to town for his physiotherapy.”

Johnny smiled dazedly up at his partner. “Be along in a minute. Just want t’give him his antibiotics.”

“Do not be long. Deirdre and Martin will be back by ten. I hoped we could...you know...”

Gheorghe winked and left him alone in the barn, waking up and stretching his long legs. He was suddenly looking forward to the day. 

The breeze was keeping Johnny cool as he mended the fence in the paddock with the new tools Gheorghe paid for out of his cheese earnings. The cheese might’ve seemed like a damn daft idea at first but it was Gheorghe that had the last laugh when he started raking in the money from his sideline. It was enough to pay for new tools, a large cooler and the vets bills for a year. Not bad for a fanciful whim, as Deirdre put it. Martin’s old radio played in the background. It only managed to get signal for a few stations so Johnny flicked between them for a bit of variety. Too long on one would make his mind go numb with repetition. Today was a Radio One day and, as he listened to the drivel coming out of the speakers, it made him wonder if he’d ever fit in with his own peer group. The so-called ‘youth of today.’ His life was so far removed from the life of the rapper, probably very similar in age to him, spouting rapid lyrics to a catchy tune. Johnny could guarantee that Stormy, or whatever his name is, wouldn’t have ever gotten out of his nice warm bed at four in the bastard morning to check up on a calf in a barn that stunk of cow shit. His song, the one playing now, was clearly very popular since it was barely an hour that passed between plays. It stuck in Johnny’s head. At least one particular line did. 

_Fuck the government and fuck Boris_. 

Johnny smirked to himself as he tightened the screw into the panel of wood. Obviously, daytime radio didn’t play the uncensored version but it wasn’t beyond Johnny’s capability to fill in the blanks. 

Politics had never interested Johnny. What was different about one middle-aged, white, privately educated compulsive liar to the next? As far as he was concerned they were all as bad as each other and they didn’t care one little bit about the small, family-run businesses in the arse end of nowhere. 

Now, though, was different. He didn’t know much about the intricacies of Brexit. The rules about leaving. Article 50. The backstop. Hard borders. Customs unions. They were just words and phrases thrown about in the media that he didn’t fully grasp, other than to know it couldn’t mean anything good if the man you lived with, and furthermore were in love with, was a Romanian migrant worker with no permanent rights to reside in the UK. It was an uncertain time that Johnny was not comfortable with. 

“John...” Gheorghe’s voice called out to him and he popped his head over the fence to see where he was. 

Gheorghe smiled brightly when he saw Johnny’s mop of blond hair emerge. “I am finished in the top field. Do you need help? Or I can start dinner...”

Johnny’s mind drifted somewhere else entirely. “Or you can come round here and show me your cock...”

Gheorghe almost recoiled in surprise at Johnny’s crude phrasing but instead burst into laughter. He was getting used to Johnny’s abrupt playfulness by now, even if it was designed to shock. “Again? This morning was not enough?”

Johnny wiggled his brows. “Never enough.”

Gheorghe walked closer and through the gate into the paddock, glancing around for any prying eyes. It was unlikely, as they were shielded on three sides and located a fair distance from the next sign of human life. He unzipped his overalls and stepped out of them, revealing to Johnny his clothed form in black cargo pants and a fitted sage green t-shirt. Johnny’s mouth watered at the vision before him, wanting to be so close to Gheorghe. Sweat patches formed rings under Gheorghe’s armpits and the thought of pushing his nose into the musky, masculine dampness drove Johnny wild. 

“Come ‘ere.” Johnny grunted and pulled his partner closer until they were pressed up close and breathing the same air. 

“John.” Gheorghe whispered reverently. 

“Come on.” Johnny pulled him into the barn space. 

“This is a nice surprise.” Gheorghe chuckled and tripped Johnny up so he fell back onto a bale of hay. 

Johnny tugged his boyfriend down on top of him and kissed him deeply. “Been thinkin bout you all day’.”

“Yes?” Gheorghe grinned. “What about me?”

“This. Touchin’ you. Fuckin’ you.” 

The gorgeous darker man lowered his head and kissed Johnny hard. “Then get to it.”

It didn’t matter how many people from the village stopped Gheorghe in the street and told him they’d voted Remain, he still felt a nagging pain in the back of his mind that he wasn’t wanted. Not in the village. That was ironed out almost immediately after his return from Scotland. Some of the village elders had accosted him while he was accompanying Deirdre to the Post Office and told him exactly what they thought of the “ignorant pond life” that had turned on him in the pub that fateful night. They wanted to assure him that they didn’t feel that way and Gheorghe was as welcome in their village as the next man who worked hard and paid his taxes. He was now an active participant in community events and knew everyone by name, business and shoe size. This village was his home. But the country...they didn’t want him. They voted in their masses after inane rumours of closing borders to foreigners. It was all bullshit. He wanted to shake the people who thought leaving the EU would change anything about immigration. Those people had probably never even _heard_ of the Schengen Agreement. Or that the UK had opted out of the no border control aspect of it from the beginning. Or that 60% of immigrants came from outside of the EU anyway. As far as Gheorghe was concerned, this whole Brexit debacle was the result of a complete lack of education and a blatant mistrust of the government. It wouldn’t be such a big issue if their ignorance only mattered to themselves but now it was in danger of impacting his livelihood and his personal life. 

“What’re you thinking on, lad? I can smell burning.”

Deirdre’s voice startled Gheorghe out of his silent musings and he smiled when she topped up his tea from the pot. 

“I’m thinking about my future, Deirdre. Nothing important.” He joked. 

The elder woman’s eyes sparkled at his humour. “Mebbe not to you, lad, but don’t be speaking for all of us.”

Gheorghe sighed softly. “I feel lost.”

Deirdre’s sigh mirrored his own and she dropped into the chair opposite him at the table. Tentatively, she patted his hand. 

“You’re not lost. Cuz we found you.”

He smiled tightly back. “I just feel...unclaimed. I’ve always felt like this is my home. This country, I mean. But now? I see the news. I see the protests from the people who would not spit on me if I was on fire. It hurts.”

“Pay no mind to them. Bastard idiots the lot of them. We’ve claimed you and they're not having you back.” Deirdre said firmly and rose to her feet before heading to the kitchen, effectively ending Gheorghe’s pity party. 

Johnny eavesdropped to the conversation between his Nan and boyfriend from the hallway. His heart clenched painfully at Gheorghe’s description of feeling lost and unclaimed. Gheorghe had been the turning point they all needed to make a real go of the farm. He was the catalyst for the change in Johnny that meant Martin could relax and let him run the farm his way. That in turn led to Johnny being able to last more than ten minutes in the same room as his grandmother without a war of words breaking out. How dare anyone threaten that? Anger boiled inside of Johnny. He opened the door to the living room and his stomach flipped when Gheorghe looked up and gave him a weary smile. 

“Come to bed.” Johnny growled quietly and Gheorghe’s eyes widened slightly. He followed his boyfriend obediently and closed their bedroom door behind them. 

“John?” Gheorghe spoke so gently it was all Johnny could do to keep his hands off him. 

“I think we should be getting wed.”

Gheorghe stared at Johnny as his words bounced around in his mind. His eyes narrowed and his head tilted. 

“I’m sorry?” He demanded, although he knew what Johnny meant. His English may not always be perfect but he’d long ago mastered the language of John Saxby. 

“We should get married. Soon as possible. Before this mess really takes hold.” Johnny breezed on. 

Gheorghe couldn’t hold back the scoff of disbelieving laughter. “Fuck off.”

Johnny was taken aback and his mouth fell open. “What?”

“I said, fuck off. I’m not marrying you.” 

The words settled in the room like a layer of dust. Johnny clearly wasn’t expecting that response and his expression did little to hide that fact. 

“But...”

Gheorghe cut him off with a wave of his hand. “Don’t tell me all of the reasons why. I know them. Visa applications. Permanent rights to reside. Rights to employment. I know the things you speak of, John. I was there that day we went to the drop in centre in Bradford. I know what they told us.”

Johnny scowled when he thought back to the day a couple of weeks earlier when he’d accompanied Gheorghe to a community centre in the city where advisers were on hand to inform foreigners of their legal rights should Brexit be concluded with no deal. They came away with a whole lot of nothing. No guarantees. No certainties. No questions answered. It was a huge mess. 

“It makes sense!” He argued, raising his voice to match Gheorghe’s in frustration. 

Gheorghe glowered at the man in front of him. Did Johnny even know him at all?

“Allow me some dignity, John.”

As he turned to leave Johnny erupted in anger. “Dignity? You think hanging around this hell hole is dignified?”

Gheorghe turned back, his lip curled in annoyance. “There is only one reason to get married. Love. Anything else is just a lie. I’ve spent too many years of my life lying already. I will not start again now. Especially for a country that doesn’t want me.”

Then he was gone. Out of the bedroom, down the stairs and out of the cottage. Johnny kicked the dresser with enough force to make him gasp. Physical pain was always easier to deal with than emotional pain. 

It was almost two in the morning when Johnny bolted awake and found his bed empty. Gheorghe hadn’t returned. He crept out of bed and down the creaking stairs, leaning into the doorway. Gheorghe was curled up on the sofa with his knees up to his chest. It was chilly in the room and he wasn’t covered. Johnny’s heart tightened painfully. He padded over and perched on the coffee table beside the sleeping form of the man he loved. 

“Hey. Gheorghe.” He whispered and reached his hand out to stroke through the thick dark curls on his partner’s head. Gheorghe stirred sleepily and opened his eyes. 

“John?”

“Come to bed, love. I’m sorry.” 

Gheorghe could count on one hand how many times he’d heard an apology on Johnny’s lips, even though he’d probably need ten more hands to count the number of times someone deserved an apology. It was still a big deal. He smiled softly and stretched out his limbs. 

“Okay.” He said simply and followed Johnny back to bed, neither man speaking of the botched proposal again. 

Time ticked by and uncertainty reigned as Britain secured a Brexit extension. Gheorghe tried not to let it affect him too much but, as his mother had told him many times over the years, he was a worrier. He had even started to look online when he was in the village for job opportunities for manual labour in Romania in case he had to go home. As suspected, there was nothing. While he was worrying about that, Johnny had other concerns. 

Marriage. 

He could honestly say it had never crossed his mind before he blurted it out in a fit of panic a few weeks earlier. It wasn’t that he didn’t love Gheorghe. He did. Desperately, in fact. He just never pictured a wedding in their future. That’s what growing up gay in a village does to you. But since that day in their bedroom when he got carried away with solutions to their problems, Johnny hadn’t been able to shift the idea from his mind. Being married...legally bound...to his soulmate didn’t seem so far-fetched anymore. Now it was fixed front and centre of his brain and didn’t look like shifting. 

“What on earth are you doing, John Saxby?”

Johnny kicked another stone across the gravel driveway and into the wall so it made a resounding thud. Deirdre was hanging out of the kitchen window with a thunderous glare on her face. Johnny sighed loudly and shrugged. Deirdre disappeared and then reappeared at the front door. 

“Where’s Gheorghe?”

Johnny shrugged again. “Market.”

“Alright. Get in here. You’ve got summat on your mind and I wanna hear it before you put me windows out!” She snapped in reply. 

Johnny kicked his heels but went inside, sullen like he was twenty years ago and Deirdre caught him throwing rocks at the side of the barn and upsetting the cows. 

By the time he made it inside there was a fresh pot of tea on the table and his grandmother was sat expectantly waiting for him. He groaned internally but joined her and took a sip of the scolding hot tea. 

“Well?” She demanded. 

Johnny hesitated but then released heavy breath. Nobody would understand quite like she would. And damn sure nobody would care enough to listen to him. 

“I fucked up, Nan.” He mumbled. 

“How, lad?”

“I told him we should get married. To keep him here...”

Deirdre’s grimace told him all he needed to know about that particular idea. 

“But it were a daft thing to say. Why would he want to marry me?”

Deirdre sucked a breath in through her teeth but remained silent. 

“I didn’t know I actually wanted it until he said no.” Johnny confessed. 

Deirdre levelled him with a firm gaze. She actually wanted to lay him out with a back hand that John McEnroe would be proud of but at the end of the day he was still her grandson. 

“What did he say?”

“Told me to fuck off.”

Deirdre scoffed and nodded. “Good lad.”

“Alright Nan.” Johnny scowled. “Not my greatest moment.”

“Well what’re you doing about it?”

“What can I do? He laughed at me!”

“Of course he bloody laughed at you. He’s a proud man. He doesn’t want you offering to marry him for the wrong reasons!”

“Well I know that now!” Johnny huffed. 

Deirdre softened and shook her head. “You wanna marry him? Then ask him properly.”

More weeks passed and the thought of asking Gheorghe to marry him - properly - was lodged in Johnny’s brain. It was eating away at him like a parasite. How hadn’t it crossed his mind sooner? It’s what people did when they were hopelessly in love and wanted to pledge their life to someone. He’d been so fucking stupid. He didn’t realise he was acting differently until Gheorghe confronted him in the barn at the end of the day. 

“Tell me what is on your mind.” He demanded. 

Johnny sank onto the bale of hay and sighed. “I just wish I knew what was gonna happen. I feel like the rug’s gonna be pulled from under us at any time.”

Gheorghe’s face crumpled as he took in the look of desolation on his partner’s face. He sat beside him and reached for his hand. 

“We will make it work. Whatever happens.”

“I know. I’m not giving up on us. I swear.” Johnny insisted. “But the truth is, I really fucked up and I dunno how to say what I wanna say without digging meself a bigger hole.”

Gheorghe’s brows rose to his hairline. “What do you mean?”

“I asked you to marry me so we’d be alright if your status changed. That were wrong of me. I don’t wanna marry you to trap you here.”

He darker man was confused but nodded. “I understand but I am not trapped here. I do not feel that way.”

“But I spoilt it. I spoilt the whole idea of being married by asking for the wrong reasons. Because I want to, Gheorghe. I wanna marry you because I love you. But I spoilt it.”

Gheorghe’s expression froze and he stared at Johnny’s profile. “You want to...”

“Aye. I know. It’s daft. Why’d you wanna marry me at all eh? For any reason.”

The barn filled with the sound of Gheorghe’s booming laughter. “You are serious?”

Johnny shot his boyfriend a glare. “It’s not funny.”

“John. All I have wanted for a long time is to be with you. In all ways. I want to marry you too.”

“Really?” Johnny gasped. 

“Yes! But I thought it was only so I could stay here. That’s not the right thing to do.”

Johnny shook his head. “I know. That were me being a fuckin idiot. I didn’t think about how it would sound.”

Gheorghe cupped Johnny’s cheek in his hand and tilted his head to face him. “I love you John. I would be proud to be your husband.”

Johnny blushed and tried to lower his gaze but Gheorghe held firm. 

“Ask me, John. For the right reasons.” He urged. 

Johnny smiled shakily. “Will you marry me Gheorghe? Spend the rest of us lives together, wherever that may be.”

Gheorghe dipped his head and kissed Johnny lightly. “Of course I will.”


End file.
